


B is for Busted

by star_named_andy



Series: Alphabet of Love [2]
Category: The Hobbit (1977), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit (Video Games), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BardXThranduil, Barduil - Freeform, Cute, F/M, Fluff, M/M, littlekid!Barduil, thranduilxbard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 17:04:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3904084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_named_andy/pseuds/star_named_andy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard goes into the depths of evil, despite his best attempts to keep him and his family safe - wait...maybe these new neighbors aren't evil after all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	B is for Busted

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the next installment of the littlekid!Barduil series, since the first part went over pretty well! This is fluffy and fun and maybe we'll see Bard and Thranduil grow up as the alphabet goes on~
> 
> (Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, or any of its characters or content.)

Bard was no knight. He highly doubted any respectable knight ever got their heads stuck in the castle gates and in front of the princess, no less! He was a fool, a jester, a nosy kid. By the way the little beautiful person was looking at him, he was an idiot, too. Looking back on it now, Bard recognized how dumb it really was to have poked his head through the bars of the gate, but he was too entranced by the stranger that was staring at him to think very much.

He wanted to cry out for help, but who could help him other than the mysterious princess? That would be too embarrassing to bear! He had to look away from the little person’s gaze, instead looking at the grass. He could see little ants scurrying around the blades and he envied them; he bet they didn’t have problems like this.

Everyone else around was too busy to notice Bard and his parents wouldn’t be able to hear him if he shouted; even if they could hear him, he didn’t think yelling for them would be a good idea. If they saw him like this, he might just find out what a spanking felt like. His da would probably be the one to do it and he was so strong that he’d probably squash Bard if he spanked him!

He was on his own. He didn’t know what to do other than try to somehow slide his way out, so he valiantly kept trying to wiggle free. He whined as the effort was wasted and tears started welling up in his eyes. His head snapped up as a shadow fell over him and he gaped; the small, beautiful person with the dazzling, ocean like eyes was standing right in front of him! But now those eyes were full on _glaring_ at him and their once dull expression had transformed into a scowl. Bard shrieked as a little foot scuffed forward and kicked a cloud of dirt into his face. He started weeping and screaming from the pain of the dirt specs scraping his eyes. His arms slid through the bars to reach his face and tried to rub the agony away desperately. When he opened his eyes, all he saw was blurriness and the blonde stranger running away. Bard feared he’d go blind and the last thing he would ever see was that mean, vile, traitorous, and oh so pretty princess.

 

By some stroke of luck, Bard didn’t lose his sight and what he managed to see next was a relief; a savior in a flowing, mint green sundress swept over to him and spoke very softly with a smile on her lips, telling him everything would be alright. Though he was comforted by her presence and her promise that Bard would make it out of his jam okay, he whined until a flock of less nicely dressed men in work tee shirts ran over to pull the bars open with big, shiny tools. When the pressure was gone and he was free, he quickly stood and spewed his gratitude to them all before zooming home.

Somehow, _he pulled it off_. When he stumbled into the kitchen, Runa was standing there pulling out whatever cooking utensils she needed.

“Oh, there you are, honey. I was just about to call you in.” she said.

Bard couldn’t believe it! He actually got away with it! No one would ever know about the incident, except him and the ones who saw, of course, but that was nothing to worry about… _unless_ …

Unless, the rich and fabulous neighbors were going to come after him and interrogate him. Would they be able to track him down? The people who helped him seemed nice enough, but that all could have been a cover to mask evil intentions. If they were as big and important as Bard thought they were, he may have to go into hiding if they pursued him. If they thought Bard was a spy, they’d be out looking for him for sure! What if they really were bad people? What if instead of superheroes, they were supervillains? That had to be it! They were supervillains who had captured a beautiful princess and they turned the princess evil. Why else would someone so pretty do such a mean thing like kicking dirt in his face? He had to do _something_ , for the poor the damsel in distress and for his parents; they were in danger now too.

He wouldn’t do anything until he’d formulated a plan, including telling his parents. He wouldn’t lay the heavy news on them just yet.

He pattered into the bathroom to thoroughly wash his hands before returning to the kitchen with his stepping stool. He slid the stool around the floor with his foot, going from counter to counter as he helped Runa clean the vegetables and plop them into a stew once they were cut. His tummy gurgled as steak sizzled on the stove; it smelled awfully good. He kept tugging on Runa’s apron and each time she would say: “Not yet.”

To keep himself busy and to ignore the yummy smell, he wiped the countertops as they went along to keep the mess away as much as possible and kept thinking of the neighbors down the road. If they had to make a run for it, Bard would have to get Dusty first. There was no question about that.

Runa handled the slicing and the stovetop as Bard set three places at the table and waited in his seat, swinging his legs and staring at nothing particular as he made up scenarios in his head of the Bowman family’s epic escape from the clutches of the fancy villains down the road. Maybe he would write Santa a letter and send it as overnight mail, explaining his predicament and stressing how good of a boy he’d been all year – yeah! He would promise to Santa that he would be good for the rest of his days in exchange for just one gift for the duration of his life, and that gift was his family’s safety from crazy neighbors. Santa would know what to do, and if it turned out he couldn’t give Bard any help, he probably knew Batman and could get Bard in touch with him. That could work too. If he could only meet one, which would he pick? Santa Claus or Batman?...No! Now was not that time for those kinds of immature thoughts.

Bard nodded to himself, pleased with his plan. It was foolproof…as long as the strangers didn’t find him before his letter got to the North Pole.

Gee, who know being five years old was so dangerous? This kind of stuff only happened to adults in the movies. When this was all over, Bard would make a movie out of his story if he knew it wouldn’t be putting him at risk for more trouble with scoundrels around the world.

He quieted his thoughts as Brent came in, hurriedly swiping off his sweat with a cloth and washing his hands before sitting at the table. He wrinkled his nose at the usual scent his da carried with him after a long day of work and Brent spotted him doing so, raising an amused brow.

“What’s that for?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“You’re stinky, da, but that’s okay. I still love you.” Bard said and leaned on his da’s arm, immediately repulsed by the intensity by the smell. He squealed and tried to get away, but Brent curled his arm around the poor boy and pulled him close to the source of the stench. “GAH!” Bard choked out, kicking his legs and trying not to breathe as Brent laughed heartily at him.

“Oh, come on now! Your best friend is a pig and you complain about _my_ smell?”

Bard lived through the stench to eat his dinner. He watched his parents intently as he scooped stew into his spoon and then into his mouth; they were such lovely people and Bard didn’t deserve them. He’d put all their lives on the line, after all, and now their happiness was hanging in the balance all because Bard couldn’t seem to keep his nose out of mischief today.

The phone had rang once and was ignored, as always – no phone calls during dinner – but then it rang a second time. When the third ringing came, Brent’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Who would be calling so avidly?” he wondered aloud and stood to retrieve the phone from its hook and silence it. Before doing so, he checked the number on the caller identification screen.

“Who is it?” Runa asked.

“I don’t know – hello?” Brent had answered and Runa watched him curiously as Bard dug into his steak – man, it was so tasty! He hadn’t been listening as his da exchanged words with whoever was on the other end of the phone, but he tuned in as he heard him make an unpleasant hum. “I see…yes, that’s him for sure…no, I understand your worry and I appreciate the call. He’s fine and well…oh? Well yes, we’d be glad too. I’m so sorry about everything…see you then. Goodbye, now.”

Brent turned on his heel and his eyes fell right on his son, who then looked very surprised, his cheek bulging with unchewed food and his eyes wide open. What was he giving him that look for?

“It seems someone paid the neighbors a visit today and got his head stuck in their front gate.” Brent said and Bard dropped his fork, _mortified_. His secret was out, the entire family discovered, and the veil of protection ripped off of them with force now that Brent had spoken with the enemy and confirmed Bard’s identity. How had they gotten their phone number?!

“ _What?_ ” Runa’s stiff voice rose and Bard hopped up from his chair with urgency.

“We’ve gotta get out of here!” he declared and started off toward the back door to go get Dusty.

“Bard, you sit down right now!” Brent scolded and Bard came to a skidding stop.

“But, da-!”

“No buts.”

“BUT, BUT, BUT, BUT!” Bard yelled, his patience lost in the midst of his worry, and Runa clapped her hands over her mouth as she gasped. Brent’s eyes were intense with growing fury.

“Bard Bowman, you _do not_ speak to your father like that!” Runa spoke and Bard stomped his foot.

“You have to listen! We’re all in danger! Those neighbors aren’t normal people, I know it! Have you _seen_ their house? It’s HUGE! It’s a supervillain’s lair! I’m lucky I escaped, but we have to go now before they come for us! Come _on!_ ” Bard rattled on and yanked on his da’s hand to lead him toward the back door, but Brent was so much bigger and held his ground. Runa had broken into a laugh, but Brent was clearly not so amused.

“Goodness, Bard! Where did you get an idea like that?” she said through her broken chuckling.

“He’s been reading too many fantasy storybooks, watching too many movies.” Brent cut in and Bard shook his head.

“But there was even a _princess_ there, I saw! A little one, like me! I know it was a princess because the person was too pretty not to be, but the villains made the princess evil!”

“An _evil_ princess?” Runa questioned.

“Yes! The princess was the one who kicked dirt in my face when I was stuck in the gate!”

“We’re going to have dinner with them tomorrow and you’ll see they’re _not_ supervillains and there is no princess. They’re normal, working people; a family, just like us with a mother, a father, and a son.”

“Bu-”

“Don’t even push your luck with me today, Bard. Please just go to your room.”

Bard slumped to his bedroom, defeated.

 

The rest of the night was calm, which Brent and Runa were all too thankful for. Bard seemed to have settled and had not mentioned a single thing more about the neighbors until he was being tucked into bed after his bath.

“I only did it because I love you.” He said, and his ma and da each kissed his head and wished him sweet dreams before flicking off the light and leaving him to rest.

They both sincerely hoped their son would have a tranquil sleep away from any bizarre dreams. This day had certainly been an astonishing one; Bard’s drastic shift in behavior was unexpected. Yes, children were due to act out at times, especially as they grew older, but this was extreme for their young Bard. Runa was sure to call the Greenleafs and warned them that their son was having a hard time with accepting their being there. She spoke to the head woman of the house, who was very understanding and guaranteed Bard would be treated with the upmost kindness and hospitality. She had high hopes that Bard's opinion could be swayed.

“Who knew he could be so imaginative?” Runa spoke, taking down her wavy hair and brushing through it before their mirror atop their shared dresser. Brent laid on the bed, expelling a sigh as he tucked his hands under his head. “That attitude is all you, though. You can thank yourself from that.” She mused.

“He’s lucky I’m not like my father. Whenever I mouthed off, it was severe punishment. No playing, no dessert, and a good smack on the ass for good measure.”

“He is lucky, very lucky, because you’re a wonderful father.” She said as she smiled at him through the mirror and he couldn’t help but faintly smile back at his stunning wife.

“His mother is even more wonderful; even so, this behavior is odd. I never expected this from Bard. Do you think he’s too sheltered? Maybe he’s afraid of meeting new people. The only people that are ever around here are family and friends of ours that he knows well. Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“He’s just content with this little bubble of life we’ve made for him. I know this will be good for him. We did the right thing, Brent. He’ll become used to them and who knows? He may even like them once he really meets them.”

“That would be a blessing.”

“Let’s hope, then.”

“I don’t know why he thinks they’re villains; villains wouldn’t let him go if he was in trouble.”

“I’m not sure why he thinks anything,” Runa shrugged with a laugh and came to sit on the bed. “But I’m curious about the _princess_ he spoke of. Did he mean Mrs. Greenleaf?”

“No, he said the princess was little like he is. He must have meant Thranduil.”

“The son?”

“Well, you saw the boy. Are you surprised? He takes after his parents with the looks; they’re all golden haired, with long hair at that. And they’re big eyed and fair faced.”

“I wonder what Bard will think when he finds out his princess is a little boy.” Runa giggled before meeting her husband’s lips for a goodnight kiss.

 

“Bard, honey, tuck your shirt in.” Runa said, probably for the twentieth time since Bard had so grudgingly put on his blue, wrinkle free dress shirt. He wore nice black slacks secured to his tiny waist with a belt and shiny little shoes that tapped when he walked. Bard shoved his hands down in his pants to stuff the pesky material down. He didn’t see why he had to dress up to go to dinner with the…Greentrees? Greenbeans? Whoever they were.

His ma was still holding ties up to his chest and debating on which would look best when Brent swept in to save the day, saying Bard looked nice enough without the tie. Bard was quite happy, since the clothes were stuffy enough as it was without a tie around his neck. He never liked to dress up all fancy because it was too stressful to have to be mindful and keep the nice clothes clean; wearing a t-shirt and shorts was much more comfortable. What use were clothes you couldn’t move around freely in and play in?

He ran a comb through his tangled curls once more per his ma’s request and frowned when she told him he couldn’t say goodbye to Dusty because he’d get dirty. His da, however, picked him up and Bard grinned as he was carried to the pig pen so he could give parting words to his oinking little brother.

“If I don’t come back, you have to run away and live a happy life, okay?” Bard whispered, but he was not quiet enough that Brent couldn’t hear. He rolled his eyes at his son; was it true that Bard mimicked him as often as his wife claimed and he himself actually made comments like that?

When the Bowmans rolled up to the black gates of the Greenleaf home in their Jeep, the gates were shut and locked tight. Brent had to crane his head out the window and confirm their invitation with a voice in a box, sort of like a drive through restaurant. Bard squinted his eyes – what a suspicious thing to have at a house. Obviously these Green people wanted to keep people out for some reason, but the question was, _why?_

The gate slowly came open and the Bowmans drove up. As they neared the enormous house, Bard was becoming more nervous about confronting these strangers face to face. He was just staring up at it in wonder when his ma opened the car door for him and offered him her hand. He gladly took it and hoped he didn’t look as nervous as he felt; the last thing he wanted the villainous neighbors to think was that he was afraid of them – _psh!_

His da was the one to ring the doorbell and Bard’s heart was pounding against his chest. When he saw the doorknob turn, his breath hitched. He must have looked absolutely startled as the door opened and there stood the woman who had come to him the day before in the mint green dress, but now she was wearing a light lavender one. She was a lovely looking woman with honey-blonde hair in a braided crown and green eyes, but she was not as beautiful as his ma was. He gazed up at her with a stark blank expression and she blinked at him, a smile curving her lips.

“Why, hello there. I’m sorry I didn’t get to introduce myself to you yesterday; my name is Miluiel. You may call me Miluiel or Mrs. Greenleaf, whatever you would like. You must be Bard.”

Bard stood silently for a moment with expectant eyes pinned to him before clearing his throat and nodded very zealously.

“Yes, ma’am - I’m sorry I put my head in your gate, Mrs. Greenleaf.” He said stiffly and she gave an elegant laugh and a wave of her hand, her bracelets jingling as she did so

“I’m just glad you’re alright, Bard, though I’d prefer you use the entrance when you visit. It’s far less dangerous.” Her eyes then flashed up to Runa and Brent who she smiled upon fondly also. “It’s so nice to see you two again and to have you over for dinner; please, come in.”

Walking inside the foreign house struck Bard mute; everything was lavish, polished, and refined. It was all very dreamlike, but he couldn’t allow himself to become too entranced with the glamor of it all. He straightened his posture, knowing he had to keep his guard up. Even if the house, mansion thing was super awesome, it only heightened Bard’s skepticism. The Greenleafs obviously had a lot of money to have all of the nice things he was seeing, money that was probably _stolen_ in a giant heist operation. He couldn’t believe how his ma and da were throwing compliments to this _devious_ woman about how gorgeous her new home was. Was he the only sane one in the family?

_Oh god._

The Greenleafs had come to his parents asking to buy the land and brainwashed them with poison to convince them to make the deal – _that’s_ why his parents were acting so ridiculous! But Bard was too smart. He decided he wouldn’t eat a single bit or drink one drop at dinner. No sir, no way.

He had his face fixed in a grumpy style, until they entered the biggest dining room he’d ever seen with crystal lighting fixtures on the walls and the ceiling. What dazed him the most was seeing the princess sitting there at the long table, and the little stranger shot him a piercing look as soon as he stepped foot inside the room. Bard wanted to squint back, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. He’d be lucky if he remembered how to walk after seeing such a sight.

The little person stood from their chair, as did the man sitting diagonal from them, and they both approached the Bowmans. They looked very similar with blue eyes and hair so blonde it almost looked white, but the man looked far pleasanter than the tiny person at his side. The man's hair brushed the shoulders of his crisp silver suit and the princess wore black trousers and shoes like Bard’s with a brown sweater over their white button up shirt. The princesses’ hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, their ears sticking out profoundly.

“Brent, Runa, it’s a pleasure to have you.” The man said and shook both of their hands firmly. He then extended his hand out to Bard who took it and looked him dead in the eye, though he had to tip his head up to do so. “You have quite the grip. Bard, is it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sir? So well mannered.” The man said and glanced at Runa and Brent with an approving grin before looking back at Bard. “It’s nice to meet you, young man. I’m Oropher Greenleaf.”

“I’ve never heard a name like that.”

“And I’ve never heard one like yours. It seems we already have something in common. This is my son,” Oropher said, nudging the other beside him and encouraging him to speak.

_Son?_

The stranger stuck out their hand to Brent, Runa, but he paused when it was Bard’s turn to share a handshake with him.

“You’re the boy he stuck his head in my gate.” The boy princess spoke and Oropher and Miluiel both shot him a look.

“Thranduil, that’s not a polite greeting for our guests.” Oropher warned and Thranduil stuck out his arm. Bard took it lamely and they shook.

“Hi, Bard. I’m Thranduil Greenleaf.” He said flatly. Bard’s heart fluttered – _Thranduil Greenleaf_ , what a name! But also, what a glower he wore.

“Hi.” Bard said awkwardly back and Thranduil frowned as he slid his hand out of Bard’s limp one.

 _Whoa_.

 

Lobster was very menacing looking. Bard had never seen such a thing in his life and he _really_ didn’t want to eat it for his own sake, but he knew if he gave any hesitation his parents would be very displeased with his lack of manners.  He would just have to fake it; being polite wasn’t worth being poisoned. With every piece of lobster he picked up with his utensils, he watched the adults carefully. When they weren’t looking at him, he nonchalantly stuffed the seafood into his pocket. More and more of his meal kept disappearing and neither his parents or the Greenleafs would be none the wiser.

“What are you doing?” Thranduil’s high voice interrupted and the conversation ceased, all eyes darting to Bard, whose eyes were very big.

“Huh?” he questioned dumbly. Thranduil furrowed his brows at him.

“He keeps putting the lobster in his pockets. He’s weird.” Thranduil said and his mother gaped at him.

“Thranduil, there will be no name calling!” she scolded and Thranduil rolled his radiant eyes at her as he crossed his arms.

“Don’t believe me? Look for yourself.”

Bard gulped as Brent waved his fingers, gesturing for him to empty his pockets. Bard took in a sharp breath and plucked the food from his pants, throwing it onto his plate and earning very surprised looks all around the table – except from Thranduil.

“See, I told you!” Thranduil proclaimed.

“Listen, I didn’t want to be rude, but I can’t eat your food!” Bard began, looking at the Greenleafs with bravery filling his chest. “I’m not dumb and-” Thranduil started to giggle at him and Bard paused.

“You’re acting pretty dumb right now.” He lashed.

“Thranduil! Forgive his attitude.” Miluiel said and Bard ignored it entirely.

“I mean you can’t trick me by being nice! You stole part of my home and I bet you tricked my poor parents into doing it with poison; that’s why I can’t eat your food. I already know you’re supervillains-”

“Bard, _please_.” Brent huffed, wanting him to stop completely, but Bard went on.

“Just don’t hurt my ma and da! You can keep me as your prisoner for sticking my head in the gate!”

Mr. and Mrs. Greenleaf exchanged looks before mirroring smiles and then looking at Bard.

“Ah, I see. I can see why you’d think all of that.” Oropher said, nodding his head in understanding. “But I can assure you, Bard, that we aren’t supervillains and your parents only sold us the land out of their own generosity.”

“They have good hearts, I’m sure you know that, and they just couldn’t turn us away when we needed a place to go. We’re tired of city life, you see. We thought this would be a wonderful place to live peacefully. We want to cherish the land just as you do.” Miluiel finished and Bard shifted in his seat. Maybe he’d been wrong…they seemed very nice. How annoying. Bard almost _wished_ they really were villains so he didn’t feel so embarrassed.

“I’m sorry.” He said and hung his head, wiping his tears.

“Hey, you were doing the right thing.” Oropher said and Bard gazed up at him with a sniffle. Runa was rubbing his back to soothe him.

“I-I did?”

“You were just looking out for your family. You’re a fine and loyal son and we’re happy to know we have a neighbor like you.”

“Really? You’re not mad?”

“Not one bit, but from now on no more sneaking around, hm?”

“Okay.” Bard agreed, and he meant it.

“He’s just a crybaby!” Thranduil yelled out and Bard blinked at him in utter shock. What a hurtful thing to say!

Thranduil shook his head with an awful pout as his mother grabbed his arm and tried to reprimand him. He kicked the underside of the table, making most of it shake, before leaping from his chair and running out. Miluiel dismissed herself to go after him.

“You’re not the only one having a hard time with the move.” Oropher said directly to Bard.

“Is that why he’s being mean?” Bard questioned.

“Well…Thranduil has always been a bit ill-tempered, but this change isn’t helping. You know, he’ll be going to the kindergarten you’re going to.”

“He is?”

“Yes. He could really use a friend like you, if you give him the chance.”

Thranduil was such a beautiful little boy and from the bottom of his heart, Bard knew it wasn’t fair for him to have to be upset and feel like he had to act out. He was more than willing to try to befriend him. He hoped Thranduil would want to be his friend too. It was decided: his new mission was to become best of friends with princess Thranduil and make him the happiest boy in the whole world! He couldn’t wait to tell Dusty _everything_.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank thorinbaqqins/kenaiskoda on tumblr for giving me an elvish name to use for Thranduil's mother! Miluiel is pronounced Mil-wee-el (according to source) and its actually thorinbaqqins' real name translated into elvish! How cool is that? So hey, you got a special spotlight in this series now ;) Hope you readers enjoy these little cuties! There will definitely be more of Thranduil in the next part :)


End file.
